Don’t Blame Me for Being Nice

Stand tall.
It’s your fault.
Don’t blame me
For pulling my punches
Even when I talk.
You asked me not so long ago
“What do I do? Where can I go?”
You didn’t want it straight.
You wanted things shaken
Stirred and curved to your nerves.
What did you expect?
I even warned you where I stood:
“I can pull my punches, darling,
“But it won’t do you no good.”
“Could it get any worse?!
“You sold me those words!”
Sweetie, I told you to stand tall
Because it’s only your fault.
I warned you from the top:
I’m good at pulling my punches
Even when I talk.
Now I know,
You’re in a bad place.
How could I give you what you want
In such bad taste?
There is a lesson here that
We all must learn:
True wisdom can’t be given
It can only be earned.
It’s what you heard–
I told you from the start–
You should be smart enough
Not to be dragged around by your heart.
It’s what I said, Darling–
It’s something you can’t knock–
I told you I pull my punches, Honey…
And I hold back even when I talk.


Lay an Egg

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